


Nothing ever lasts forever

by makesometime



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Rated for language not for smut, Seriously I spoil the ending of the game within the first paragraph, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 23:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21107738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: de Sardet deals with the aftermath of her actions in the sanctuary of Anemhaid. Poorly.





	Nothing ever lasts forever

**Author's Note:**

> As I said in the tags, please please be aware of endgame spoilers in this fic. The whole damn thing is spoilt in here.

It has been three weeks since her fateful decision. Three weeks, two days and a few hours, give or take, since she shoved a dagger through her dear cousin’s heart. She can still feel the warm spill of blood over her hand, the laboured breathing against her face. 

She can still hear his final words echoing in her ears.

_ What a shame. _

What a shame, indeed, dear cousin.

Kurt has barely let her out of his sight since she stumbled out of the chamber, covered in blood and weeping, silently, broken down to the very core of her soul. She supposes she finds it charming, in its way, to have him hover over her like a mother hen after so many months of her fretting over his every sprained ankle or stiff muscle.

But there’s an increasingly larger part of her that just needs it all to  _ stop _ . No more kid gloves. No more cautious, frowning looks whenever she dares to not appear completely satisfied with life.

New Sérène is a quiet shell of what it once was. No Governor. No direction. She sits at an upstairs window and watches people walk by, though fewer and fewer approach the Palace. What reason would they have to do so? 

A quick rap of knuckles on the door frame makes her jump. She turns from her vigil with a scowl, less angered at the intrusion than at her reaction to it. 

Kurt doesn't wilt in the face of her frustration. He holds himself tall and poised as ever, though a storm rages in his bright eyes. A hundred words wait on the tip of his tongue, should she give him permission to spill them. 

"Your Excellency."

Elena narrows her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Dearest Kurt. Why do you stand there and speak as if you haven't had your tongue buried in my cunt?" 

He is flustered, for a moment, showing a strong enough reaction to her words that she feels  _ something  _ at last, a great swoop of anticipation through her belly. 

"I hoped to see how you were faring." He says, clipped. "I believe I have my answer."

"And who, pray tell, were you to report this information to?" Her expansive shrug is little more than another chance to goad him. "Surely not my cousin, because if you'll recall I recently  **murdered** him."

He’s never been one to mollycoddle her, for fear of making her soft, unable to deal with the realities of the life she was to lead. Right now, she wishes for nothing more than the strength of his embrace. 

Instead, she spits antagonistic words at him, looking for a retort, an insult. Anything to make her feel  _ something other than this _ .

“Elena.” His voice is cold, his steps faltering as he approaches her. “You did your duty.”

She barks out a laugh, astounded and offended in equal measure. “Fuck my duty, Kurt. I thrust a blade between Constantin’s ribs and watched as the life left his eyes.”

“To save the damn island and everyone on it!” His nostrils flare, but he keeps very, very still. He’s too good at maintaining his control. “You can blame yourself for many things, Excellency, but not that.”

She is being selfish, but hasn’t she earned it? After working for so long to keep everyone on the island safe, while they backstabbed and plotted and lied to her face, over and over, in stunning displays of hypocrisy?

She sacrificed her oldest friend, her confidant, her  _ family. _

And no one has thanked her for it.

“I miss him.”

Kurt softens in the face of her whispered admission. In two great strides he is in front of her, a heartbeat later she is in his arms, face tucked into his throat. 

She should cry, she knows. But the tears don’t come, the relief of emotional outpouring does not grace her this day. Instead, she holds Kurt tighter than she remembers holding anyone, and forces away the thought of how he’d slump just like Constantin if she stabbed him too, heavy enough to force her to the floor.

“Elena…” He murmurs, mouth by her ear. “You have learned too much from me, I fear.”

Their embrace lingers for some time, several minutes at least. His palms are warm where they settle against her, cupping her neck and smoothing over the small of her back. She lets the twin points of heat soothe her, focus her racing thoughts, ease her lingering desire to fight and curse and punish herself.

“I miss him too.” Kurt says, followed by a shuddering breath. “Every memory I have of him is exasperating and fond in equal measure.”

Elena smiles, genuinely, for the first time in weeks. “Oh, he was a complete shit.” 

She does so love to make Kurt laugh, especially when she surprises him. He steps back and takes her hands, still chuckling to himself as he looks her over, making sure she isn’t feigning an improvement in mood.

“Would you take a walk with me, Lady de Sardet?” He asks, offering her his arm like a proper gentleman. “I hear our favourite Naut is due to leave port today. We could say farewell and reminisce about Constantin on the way.”

“Yes, Kurt. Thank you, I would like that.” 

She slips her arm in his and realises with a jolt that this is the first time he has officially escorted her anywhere like this. She approves, very much. Perhaps when all of this is said and done, when she has grieved and accepted and started looking to the future she earned through spilled blood, she can make an honest man of him.

Something of what she’s thinking must show on her face, leading Kurt to quirk his brow at her as he accompanies her down the stairs. An unvoiced question hangs in the air between them,  _ do I need to worry, Elena? _

She squeezes her hand on his forearm, leaning in to press a short kiss to his cheek. “I think I’ll marry you one day, Kurt.”

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his grip on her tightens, and pride lifts his chin as he opens the front door for them.

“I think I might like that, Your Excellency.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am very in love with these two idiots but lacking in inspiration at the moment for interesting ideas to explore. If you would like to send me any prompts, you can do so at my [tumblr.](https://makesometime.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
